


Deactivated

by subtlemarathon



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Angst, Deal With the Devil, M/M, Murdoc saves the day, Possession, Redemption, Regret, Sacrifice, Satan - Freeform, Satanism, Witchcraft, possessed!2d
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:28:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23787112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtlemarathon/pseuds/subtlemarathon
Summary: 2D is possessed, Murdoc wants to make things right.
Relationships: Murdoc Niccals & Stuart "2D" Pot, Murdoc Niccals/Stuart "2D" Pot, Russel Hobbs & Murdoc Niccals
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is taken from my oneshot book that I am deleting because it's absolute cringe. 
> 
> BEWARE; what you're about to read was written like two years ago on Wattpad so don't expect anything amazing.

"Murdoc! I'm talkin' to you, you asshole!" Murdoc boredly looked up from his phone. "What?" he growled lowly to Russel who stood at the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed. "Have you even listened to the new album all the way through?" he questioned, quirking a brow. "Yeeeaaaahhhh- no." Russ groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Then why the hell are you coming on this tour if you haven't-" he sighed in frustration. "Just pick up that damn bass, go ask 'D for the sheet music, and sit your pickle ass down and learn the songs, dickweed-" "WAIT WAIT WAIT!" Before Russ could turn on his heel, he gave a singular glance back, waiting. "Can't you go get it for me? I ain' goin' up to 'D's room!" Russ furrowed his brows. "No. Noods and I are heading downtown cus she broke her strings. This'll also give you a chance to be a _better man_ ," he scolded, his accent thickening with rising rage. And with that, Murdoc was left alone with his racing thoughts.

Hearing the door slam, he quietly made his way through the Spirit House they really needed to move out of, the ghouls giving wicked glances at him. Even they were pissed at his return. He dragged himself up the stairs, clinging onto the railings every now and then and mumbling something along the lines of "Fuck, I'm getting old."

Wandering the halls in search of that bluenette's bedroom, he paused outside the singer's chamber, timidly reaching for the door knob. Before twisting it, Murdoc placed his ear to the door, picking up the faint sound of low and drawn out hums. It wasn't the old chirpy high-pitched jingles 2D would usually hum as he bounced giddily through the house, waving at the spirits as he did so. No, these were low, monotone, lacking any emotion. Sometimes it would suddenly stop as if he'd heard something only to continue the same tune again seconds later, repeating it as if he were on loop. Murdoc remembered when he returned to Noodle she mentioned something about 2D continuously humming the same tune over and over, even late in the dead of night his voice could be distinctly recognised.

"Here goes nothing," Murdoc told himself, swinging the door open and immediately introducing his presence in a grand fashion, putting on his usual sassy and annoying facade. However, he was given no recognition. The humming stopped.

2D was sat on the edge of his bed, back to the door. He didn't turn to greet the intruder. He barely even flinched and this was the same man terrified of the toaster popping. He wore a simple navy sweater, pink collared shirt, and high waisted jeans; a usual style for him. His blue hair was untamed, looking knotty and frizzy and had been carelessly swept back.

Murdoc cautiously walked around the side of the bed, now staring at the side of 2D's sickly pale skin. He looked like a frozen corpse, calm and at peace yet deathly to look at. He looked whiter than a sheet of paper, almost like one of the ghosts that roamed the house. His eyes were lidded and from what the bassist could see, his one swollen bruised eye (that he may or may not have caused) was the usual bloody black while the other fine one was a glowing white. Usually, it was either one colour or the other, never both. His gaze was plastered to something in the distance, not blinking, just staring in a hazy daze.

"Oi," Murdoc notioned, waving his arms in his face. No reaction. "Oiiii," Murdoc droned, now standing in front of him with his hands on his hips, looking down at the deactivated man. "I'm fuckin' talking to you!" He raised his arm in a threatening demeanour though the man barely even reacted. Murdoc lowered his arm, letting it hang loosely. "Dents...?" he quietly asked, outstretching his calloused bassist fingers to the man's ghostly skin. He lightly grasped the man's jaw, his thumb rubbing small circles on his cheek. He was cold to the touch. Murdoc tilted 2D's head up to face him and 2D stared blankly back, his lips parting ever so slightly. His eyes still held a dead stare, looking blankly into Murdoc's confused eyes. Even in this catatonic state, his beauty remained; That clear pale skin, soft lips, firm jawline, large innocent eyes, and a small button nose that now had a strip plastered onto it from when his 'skates fell on him'.

"Hey, Dents, y-yer.... yer scarin' me a bit, mate, heh," Murdoc whispered, a small sense of dread overwhelming him. "Snap outta it, will ya, mate?" He had heard while 'in prison' that 2D was... different. Sometimes he would act overly confident, his newfound ego taking control. Other times he was a brick wall, lacking feeling or awareness. Just like twenty years prior when Murdoc would sit beside the braindead teen, praying to Satan the damn boy would awaken and snap out of it. _'D-did I do this...?_ ' he questioned. '.... _again?_ '

Murdoc situated himself beside the younger man, his arm slung around his bony shoulders and he pulled him closer to his chest. He raked his fingers caringly through 2D's tangled locks, combing out any knots that had weaved into the spikes. With each tug of hair, Murdoc could hear small whimpers escape the lad's lips. Murdoc exhaled, his heartbeat becomming more irregular with each passing second. His worry was taking over. Something was clearly not right.

He felt the mam slowly shift in place and Murdoc snapped his gaze to the now moving body. He was internally thanking whatever devils had heard his prayers, moving in sync with the man to help him get into a better position. 2D's hand rested gently on Murdoc's thigh. Murdoc thought nothing of it until the singer's fingers started tapping in an unusual pattern.

_Tap Tap Tap Tap_   
_Tap_   
_Tap Tap Tap Tap_   
_Tap Tap Tap Tap_

_Tap Tap_   
_Tap_

_Tap Tap_   
_Tap Tap Tap_   
_Tap Tap Tap_   
_Tap Tap Tap Tap_

  
Murdoc tilted his head, puzzled. He stopped tapping and a period of nothingness took place. It was only until a moment later Murdoc realised 2D was talking to him... in morse?

Images of the Plastic Beach re-surfaced. He'd taught morse to the young man since it made it easier to communicate with the outside world from their desolate location and helped send messages when those bloody pirates were lingering around. The fact his moronic brain still remembered each individual letter impressed him...

_H_   
_E_   
_L_   
_P_

_M_   
_E_

_M_   
_U_   
_D_   
_Z_


	2. Chapter 2

A week had passed. 2D was still in his hypnotic daze. Russ and Noodle had left to scope arenas and venues, far out from the bassist's range. They hadn't suspected a thing seeming as 2D was known to hide away for long periods of time and Murdoc wasn't sure how to tell them and overall, said bassist was beginning to lose his shit.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," Murdoc repeated as he stumbled over every item possible in search for those godforsaken books. He'd searched everywhere; his room, the book shelves, random boxes, even the bathroom yet he still couldn't piece together where his books- "The basement!" Murdoc exclaimed, retreating out of his room and down the halls. The doorknob may as well be non-existant as the man slammed into the chipped door in a panicked frenzy, darting down the rickety stairs. The fourth step from the bottom gave out as his boot mercilessly slammed down upon it, causing the bassist to fly forward only to be caught by the concrete ground. Dust surrounded him in a thick fog as he groaned, holding his head and reaching for the banister to balance on.

Sudden movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Turning, Murdoc locked eyes with one of the countless entities that roamed their home. It gave a small predatory scowl at his presence though remained cautious. "Ey, 'm lookin' for some ol' books 'bout this big," he made a sizeable motion with his hands, "Seen 'em?" The ghoul took a timid step forward, never once parting his gaze in the tense stare off. It raised a frail arm, pointing behind the bassist. Murdoc rotated his head, noticing a worn out cardboard box with the words: _"MuRDoC NiCCaLS - Do NoT ToUCH!!! (2002-2006)"_ scribbled over the front in red marker, the ink peeling and faded out. Murdoc looked back only to see the entity no longer there. He shrugged, grabbing the box and rushing back up the stairs.

Barging into the singer's room unannounced, he took note of the bluenette laid motionless on his freshly made bed with a resting face; eyes closed lightly and lips parted enough to see the small gap in his teeth. Murdoc dropped the box at the edge of the bed, quietly eyeing the man. He brushed a lock of azure hair from the singer's slightly damp forehead with his bony fingers, running his fingertips down his prominent cheekbones and along the curve of his firm jawline. Pure beauty. Murdoc sighed. He didn't want to disturb Stu's peaceful slumber but it had to be done. There was no other choice.

He opened the folds on the box, eyeing the contents; his old cape and skull clasp rested atop everything. He removed it, remembering the times when young Noodle and 2D would take turns wearing and dramatically strutting around in the garment, creating quite the performance. The once silky soft cloth was now rough and discoloured with age. Beneath that was exactly what he hoped to see; books lined in velvet and leather, the pages within a vibrant yellow and torn from misuse, a few recognisable drops of red dotted upon them too from previous uses.

Murdoc's hands trembled ever so slightly as he lifted one of them from the box, blowing off the dust that sat atop it. He flipped open the book cover, flicking through the pages until his gaze landed upon what was required towards the end of the book. He turned a few more pages past the unnecessary introduction that sounded like it was written by an angsty edgelord on Halloween, skipping to the ritual itself. Murdoc's dualed orbs ran over each phrase, chewing his bottom lip as he tapped his foot impatiently.

_INSTRUCTIONS FOR PRACTICE_   
_To engage your conscience with the Lord, follow these instructions accurately to be transported._

_1) Fill singular 8cm vile fully with participant's lifeblood. This will be the practicer's offering; the entrance fee._

Words, blah blah, Satan, yep, blood, Hell, viles- viles? He released a shaky exhale as his arm delved into the box again, his fingertips brushing over a cool smooth surface. He pulled out a selection of small empty viles the size of his thumb, popping open the corked top of one and putting the others back. Eyeing them, he found they were empty and unused. How they got there not even he knew. He read on, vile in grasp. "Okay, okay, okay, okay..." he whispered repeatedly as he pulled out a small silver switchblade resting in the shadiest corner of the box. He quickly aquired an antiseptic wetwipe from 2D's attached bathroom, giving the blade a hasty clean. This was probably gonna hurt like a bitch but hey, he'd been through worse, right? He readied it, inhaling then moving it away, chickening out last second. He growled to himself. "Jus' do i', ya wanker..." he scolded himself, positioning it again and in one swift movement, the blade made a singular slash mercilessly across his palm. Murdoc hissed through his pointed teeth, watching the red ooze pool into the small vile. He slightly clenched it to try squeeze more out the gash, watching it drool down his hand and wrist as he poured it. It was thick and warm, a deep shade of crimson. Murdoc's face visibly cringed at the sight and stinging sensation. "Fuckin' hell!" he whimpered weakly as the last drop was added to the glass container. He popped the cork in and shoved it in his back pocket.

Murdoc rushed to the bluenette's bathroom medicine cabinet, carefully shoving countless pill bottles that had names he couldn't even pronounce out the way, swiftly pulling out rubbing alcohol and bandages. Trust Stuart to have all this kind of stuff just lying around. Murdoc felt a pang of guilt in his chest knowing he was probably the reason he needed all this but if this worked out, he'd definately be returning the favour. Patching up his hand, he stormed back into the bedroom.

At the sound of his heels landing like bombs on the floorboards, Murdoc noticed the singer's breathing shudder at the sounds, his chest rising a little higher with bigger breaths. Murdoc bit his lip as he rushed back to the verses in the book, mumbling to himself.

_2) Repeat ritual stanzas with care. Must not read directly from book. Must be said strictly from memory. Must be said exactly as written. Mistakes in doing so will alter practice, as a result proving nothing but disloyalty and unwillingness to the Lord._

"This... does not sound right but okay..." He rehearsed the following four verses in his mind, reading them over and over continuously until they were etched in his memory. If he could remember lyrics, he could remember this. He let out a shaky exhale.

The sound of small vulnerable whimpers snatched his focus. Looking next to him, the bluenette's hands quivered violently and audible whines droned from his parted lips. Murdoc placed his unwounded hand on 2D's trembling one. He was still cold and corpse-like. "Nightmare...?" he whispered gently to the man even if he couldn't answer. "Shhhh... It'll be over soon, brat, I promise..." Murdoc let a lopsided smile spread across his face as 2D hushed his tone, calming down as if he were listening.

Murdoc swiveled back to the book, preparing. Taking one final intake of breath, his eyes fluttered closed and he began. He started slowly at first, reciting the first few lines perfectly. Before he knew it, he had already nailed the first stanza. He slowed his pace, his voice wavering with each quick breath as he tried remembering whatever he could of the next three. He took a firm clutch onto his cross as he spoke, feeling the icy pendant against his sweaty palm in an attempt to draw more attention to himself.

After what felt like forever, Murdoc let the last syllables escape his chapped lips. With his eyes remaining closed he could still feel that shift in the air... that same one you feel when you enter a graveyard; a feeling of grey and melancholy. It felt heavy on his chest as if his ribs were constricting on his lungs, suffocating him. He dug his clawed nails into his thighs, waiting and beginning to alter his breathing at this heavy weight pushing on him. With a tinge of curiousity and anxiety, he opened his crimson-hued eye. His pupil enlarged and enclosed as his sight adjusted to this foreign environment. He felt a sense of familiarity... like he'd been here before. Maybe not in reality... but it was recognisable. It was dark... a black abyss yet he could see, even if there was nothing to see. He remained as stiff as a pillar, arms hung at his sides and feet plastered to the floor that looked as if he could fall down into that empty black and have no way to crawl back out.

**Mister Niccals... It has been a while... To what do I owe the pleasure...?**

Murdoc turned on his heel... Nothing.

**Do not act so cowardly Niccals... My, my, have you changed... Last time you were demanding power before you even set foot in here... power which I gave you... yet you still come back for more, eh...?**

It snickered. The voice was rough and gravelly, even more so than Murdoc's. It droned in his earshot yet he couldn't quite place the certain direction it came from. Everywhere. It came from everywhere.

"I... I need ya help again..." Murdoc finally managed to croak out, his throat scratchy and burning. He managed to put on his usual authoritive demanour, craving the helping hand he so desperately needed. "There was no one else I coulda turned to..."  
It chuckled menacingly.

**Is that so...? And what is it the oh so great Murdoc Niccals desires this time around...? And what will you be willing to give in return..?**

He was right. He had to give something. He delved into his pocket, pulling out the bloodied vile and waving it knowingly in the air. "Is this enough...? The book said-"

**You really think that would work..? I honestly don't give a damn what that book holds... I just wanted to see that discomfort and pain flash across your face as you slid that blade- the blade I gave you- across your soft untouched flesh... It was highly amusing to say the least... And that look you had on your face... You really wanted this didn't you..? Even faced a little bloodshed, huh?**

Murdoc growled. "Then what else can I give ya, damn it?! Ya already got me soul, don't ya?! I just... I just..."

**Just what? Thought you could waltz in here and I'd grant your wish willingly? What do you take me for Niccals..?**

Murdoc snarled again, his lip curling up as he threw his blood-filled vile into the void among him, hearing a satisfying smash and splatter radiate around him. "Look, mate! It's me singer! Th-there is somethin' wrong with him and I need ya to fix 'im!"

**Your singer..? Oh yes, you are in a famous band and whatnot.**

"Ya still remember tha'?"

**I like to keep an eye on my favourite... clients... Anyways... Your singer... the blue-headed boy... is that right..?**

Murdoc shook his head aggressively, his black bangs wildly poking up from his dark nest of hair. "I think 'e 'as a case of possession an' ya need to fix 'im. Please..." he pleaded weakly, giving up his facade and breaking before the devil itself. He didn't care anymore. He was desperate.

**I see... Well in that damned home you reside in with all those little entities wandering about the place no wonder your favourite toy got damaged. Who knows what other little creatures reside there. But nevertheless, you must still pay the price...**

"I-I'll do anythin'! Anythin' a' all! You see... the dullard is still young... Too early for 'im to not make it... Please, he's a good guy and didn't deserve it! Any of it!"

**Then why did you treat him so poorly, hm? Knowing you, Niccals, you should be in hysterics at your singer's foolishness. You've gone soft...**

Murdoc could hear its grin and the question ate away at him. Why did he? He'd heard that question a lot. From Russel, Noodle, fans, interviewers... from 2D himself... Hearing it come from Satan too he realised he had no reason to. The more Murdoc thought, the more he came to think about all the times the singer would always greet and strike conversation with him everyday... or how he'd drag him carefully to the Winnie after an intense round at the bar... or how the man would sing him to sleep when he was feeling down in that perfect smooth singing voice of his... or how he'd always listen to Murdoc when he broke down into drunken rants- Murdoc stopped himself. He didn't notice before but he now could feel the heat burning like hot coal on his cheeks and that stinging feeling you get in your eyes when tears threaten to let loose, turning red and glossy.

**You regret it all now, don't you? I see it in your eyes. You useless coward. And now you will watch little blue pass on without even knowing how he even got there... How unfortunate... He seemed like a nice boy... How about I drag him down here and keep him as my little slave, hm? I'll let you pet him when you visit... I guarantee he won't bite...**

"Wha' do you wan' from me? I got nothin' to give ya-" He paused mid-sentence, clearing the frog in his throat and quieting his tone. "A-actually..." he began slowly even though it was too late now.

**Go on...**

"How 'bout... How 'bout ya keep me down here instead? A-and give him me conscience so he can carry on... living and such... I-I'll be your servant- slave..."

**Why would I want your pathetic ass lingering around me all the time? You're difficult enough as it is...**

"Please..?"   
It hummed.

**You are a strange man, Niccals. And an interesting one too... The offer is tempting, but could you take it..? Take having to be my personal little errand boy and bow to your Master like a good pet..?**

Murdoc swallowed the last of his dignity. He lowered his ageing body, resting on one knee. "Yes..."

**Yes who?**

It sniggered. Murdoc bowed his head shamefully. "Yes, Master..." he spat.

**You are a wise man. You know what, Murdoc? I think I could use someone like you around here... Dedicated and a man of his word, loyal... And since I'm feeling somewhat generous after your humerous attempts at persuading me... You get two minutes with the blueboy... To say your goodbyes...**

Murdoc sighed, nodding knowlingly. "Thank you..."

**Thank you who?**

Murdoc grimaced. "Thank you, Master..."

**Two minutes... See you soon, Niccals...**

Murdoc felt that shift in the atmosphere again and he clenched his eyelids closed, awaiting his transportation.

"M-Muh'doc...?" 2D whimpered, sitting upright. He prodded Murdoc's limp body that laid unmoving at the end of his bed with his foot and just like that, Murdoc sprang back to life like a jack-in-the box, causing the singer to let out an unwanted screech. Murdoc glanced at him weakly but when he saw that glimmer in 2D's wide and confused black orbs... the one that resembled a million galaxies swirling in his eye socket, he lunged onto the man, embracing him tightly and latching onto him like a pesky leech. "O-oh thank fuck, Stuart! Oh, sweet Lord.." he cried into his shoulder, shaking profusely and the bluenette awkwardly hugged him back, feeling Murdoc's bony and quivering fingers rake through his sapphire locks. "I-I have t-to say this quick c-cus I only g-got two m-minutes and- and I-I'm just so s-sorry for everything like prison and-"   
"Woah woah woah, Mudz. Cool i'... W-wot's gotten into yew..?" Murdoc looked up at him, taking in every little detail of the man's face since this would probably be the final time he could stare into those deep voids again. 2D smiled awkwardly, still confused. "Y-you were so out of it... so different..." he began, trying to phrase out everything as quickly as he could. "Possessed.. I-I didn' know wha' to do a-and... and I..." he sobbed again. 2D shot a quizzical sideglance but when he saw that book, the one he absolutely despised, resting open next to his exposed feet, his expression fell into a dead stare. "W-wot 'ave yew done...?" Now it was his turn to let tears fall. "Y-yew promised yew'd never touch tha' shi' again..." he whimpered, holding Murdoc closer. "I-I made a deal with 'im, luv." 2D's bottom lip quivered. "D-do yew mean..?" Murdoc looked away. As much as he craved gazing into those black eyes glimmering in compassion and life... he couldn't bring himself to look at the now sobbing young man. The lack of words was enough to tell him of his fate. 2D held him close, rocking him carefully, still exausted from his awakening. "Y-yew can' leave me... or them... y-yew said yew'd never leave us again..." he whispered softly into Murdoc's hair, entangling his fingers in it and twirling the loose ends between his nimble finger tips. "Please..." Murdoc spoke after his brief silence. "Please know 'm sorry... so, so sorry..." 2D sniffled, letting out a small 'i forgive you' to ease the both of their growing worries.

Murdoc nuzzled into the crook of the singer's pale neck, his fringe tickling against the man's collarbone. Murdoc's deep and warm breaths hit softly against 2D's neck, causing small goosebumps to prickle over the skin. He could feel Murdoc's cheekbones rise into a smile and 2D smiled to himself too, continuing to rock them both in a comforting yet deathly silence for the inevitable.

Momentarily, 2D stopped smiling, his facial expression falling once again as he stared ahead at nothing, gripping tighter onto Murdoc's sleeved arms. He could feel Murdoc wasn't smiling either. 2D noticed the lack of warm breaths emitting from the older man on his skin, the feeling of Murdoc in his arms growing colder by the second. Wearily, 2D lowered his gaze, his eyes resting upon the still bassist. His eyes were lightly closed, his black fringe drooping over one closed eye as he supported himself on 2D's shoulder and neck. If it weren't for knowing the truth, 2D would've assumed the drunk had fallen into a peaceful doze, dreaming happy things about himself and the family he dedicated himself to raise into the band they were. However, sleeping meant you'd eventually awaken, which Murdoc would most certainly not. Nevertheless, the bluenette kept that ideology in mind; one day Murdoc would wake up from his deactivated state, just as he did.


End file.
